


Keystroke and the speedster.

by My_name_is_4



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bisexual!Steve Rogers - Freeform, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Mentions of body dysmorphia, Multi, New Avengers, Panic Attacks, Pietro is alive, Slow Burn, Smut, bisexual! Main, em is fucked up, gay!Bucky Barnes, mentions of eating disorders, mentions of self harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-07 18:25:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17371040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_name_is_4/pseuds/My_name_is_4
Summary: Em Samuels is a fucked up, petty, asshole.Why?Because it's easier.She joins the avengers, slightly unwillingly, and pietro maximoff decides to have some fun.OrThe one where Jarvis didn't change the nuclear codes. Em did.





	Keystroke and the speedster.

Em Samuels is woken to the sound of a duck quacking in her ears.   
Bloody alarm  
She paws blindly at the digital clock, looking for the snooze button. She eventually succeeds. She smiles, eyes still shut.   
She rolls over in the warm fleece blanket, slowly drifting back into a light sleep. Only to be rudely awoken by a paw swatting at her cheek.   
She groans loudly, stretching out her small body and rolling out of bed in only a pair of shorts and an oversized t-shirt. Putting on her thick rimmed glasses and letting her small bedroom come into focus.   
She pads Along the cold wooden floor of her bronx apartment, her computer set-up humming as it turns on, sensing her awoken consciousness. The hairs on the back of her neck raise as the cold air of her apartment begins to wake her properly.   
She opens the window of her kitchen, letting the sleek, black cat climb along the window sill and out into bustling, and lively New York morning. She flips on her radio, coffee machine and puts a slice of brown bread into her toaster. She leans against the cool granite counter, a shiver running down her spine. She reaches her hands up and stretches out her warm, rested body. 

After drinking her instant-diabetes-sweet coffee, eating her toast and lazily reading the morning news, ("The avengers announce new teammates, Sam Wilson, Colonel James Rhodes and Wanda and Pietro Maximoff." Being the main headline.) She goes for a quick shower.   
Soapy water running down stretch marks, old scars, tattoos and pale, freckled skin. She towel dries her thick, messy black hair, pulls on skinny jeans and a navy blue sweater and sits down at her office chair. Time to work for a living.   
Her hands fly across the keyboard as she knew it better than her own body. Passing with ease through systems, coding and firewalls until she finds what she's looking for. 

The "Council of the unseen" forum. 

All elite hackers are well aware of the council of the unseen. A collective of vigilante hackers using illegal means to destroy dangerous companies, take down harmful sites on the dark web and expose corrupt politicians. They played a big part in taking down hydra networks, rendering them vulnerable, exposed and penniless, taking the money for themselves or sending it to various charities.   
The forum is alive with activity, various users posting updates on certain operations, other users and new targets. However, what catches Ems keen eyes is the regular mention of her URL, "_keystroke_".   
They all seem to be warning her of some other hacker, a pretty damn good one, trying to gather information about her; who she really was, what operations had she worked, her expertise.   
The alarm bells in her head start ringing, Asking quickly if they knew anything. Other users came to the conclusion that all they knew was that she was behind the changing of the nuclear codes during the ultron crisis. 

They gave her the name of the other hacker: Jarvis.is.my.copilot.   
She was instantly in their history. They'd previously dug around the old SHIELD data banks, blackmarket arms sites, hydra sites and... The Avengers databases?   
Her brain was processing data faster than any computer could, speeding through codes, trying to find an origin of the user. Until after an hour of vigorous typing, she found it.   
Tony Motherfucking Stark.   
What the fuck did he want with her?  
She took a second, hands off the keyboard.   
She sighed deeply whiles running her hands over her face and through her hair, thankful she'd taken her anxiety medication earlier. After deliberating for a few seconds, she slips her hands back into her keyboard. 

_keystroke_  to Jarvis.is.my.copilot  
What do you want, stark? 

Jarvis.is.my.copilot to _keystroke_   
To get to know you! After all, we have similar goals! don't we miss Ianelli? 

That sent a lighting rod right up her spine. He had one of her fake identities. 

_keystroke_ to Jarvis.is.my.copilot  
I don't wanna know how you know that, but what I need you to know is that you better stay well out of my fucking business or I'll make your life a living hell. 

Her heart is like a jackhammer in her chest, if it wasn't for her meds then she would have had an anxiety attack by now. 

Jarvis.is.my.copilot to _keystroke_   
Ooo feisty. Come on emmy, we both know you can't get through my systems. 

Now that pissed her off. Not even using her hand, her brain interfaces with her set up, throwing her entire being right into the ether, Flying through code and right into the avengers tower systems. Turning off all the lights.   
She jumps back into her own apartment, gasping and groaning. She shouldn't have done that so fast. She could feel a migraine coming on. 

Jarvis.is.my.copilot to _keystroke_   
Touché. 

_keystroke_ to Jarvis.is.my.copilot  
Are we done here? Forget all about me and you'll never have trouble from me again. Because I can do far worse than turn on and off the lights. 

Jarvis.is.my.copilot to _keystroke_  
Maybe a little chit chat in person would be better? 

As the narrator of this story. I can confirm that this is, what we Literature experts call,   
A turning point. 

Now was the time to make calls.   
She speedily transfers her savings into an offshore holdings account under the guise of a travel company. She packs her suitcase, she doesn't have much stuff anyway so it's not a big deal. 

A small bible, rosary beads, her clothes, her few pieces of jewellery, her photo album and the large amount of cash she keeps under her mattress.   
she backs up everything onto a hard drive, ready to wipe her computer at a moments notice. But grabbing the back up rig she keeps.   
She calls Greebo the cat back inside, putting his food, bed. Toys and brushes in her bag, bringing out the cat carrier.   
She doesn't want to have to run.   
She hates running.  
In all forms.   
She looks out her apartment window, the usual amount of yellow cabs rolling by. If necessary, she could get out of the apartment unseen, her fire escape leading to the alley beside her building.   
She drops a quick text to her neighbour on the bottom floor, Keisha. 

Em:   
Hey, I might have to make a break for it soon. Real soon. Think you can cause a fuss in the stairway and bottom floor? 

Keke:  
Course I can boo 👻  
Who should I look out for? 

Em:   
Either Tony stark or one of the fabulous freak show 

Keke:   
Shit bitch! Wtf did you get yo self into? 

Em:   
It's better you don't know

Keke:   
Keep your secrets then. A redhead just pulled up outside. You're gonna wanna go now.   
I'll see you around scotty. 

There was a loud slamming of a door, then the loud-as-ever voice of Keisha hollered through the building.   
"I KNEW YOU WERE SLEEPING WITH A REDHEAD!"   
The shouting continues between keisha and a male voice that em recognised as Benny across the hall.   
She then heard other doors open and close throughout the building.   
She coerces Greebo into the carrier then rushes out the door.   
She puts her hand on the button panel of the elevator and stalls it completely. She then runs down the stairs to see her other neighbours doing the same.   
Half the building was on the bottom floor, watching benny and Keisha scream about their "doomed relationship."   
Being quite short, she manages to weave through the crowd with practised ease while the redhead assassin was crowded by her hollering and whooping neighbours.   
Once out of the old brick apartment building she made a right after spotting a taxi. She put two fingers two her lips and let out an ear-piercing whistle. 

Just as she begins to jog towards a stopped cab, two large hands wrap around her waist from behind. She lets out a surprised squeek and sends an elbow shooting backwards into the rib cage of her capture. A low grunt is heard from the archer behind her, who curses under his breath.   
"Hey! Would you just- ouch!- stop- ah!a elbowing me?" The man huffed. 

The young Scotswoman scowled, "if you let go of me, sure!" She bit back, bitterly.  
An angry hiss came from the cat carrier at her side before it is snatched out of her hand by a, slightly ruffled but still glamorous, Natasha Romanoff.   
No one touches her cat.   
In a blind rage as her hands are ziptied behind her, she focuses all of her energy on the woman next to her and a sharp electric crackly is heard as a bolt of electricity jumps from Em to the cat-napper.   
Natasha yelps, as the electricity surges through her body, not enough to cause damage, but enough to really fucking hurt.   
She turns the the woman who is currently grappled by her loyal friend and teammate, Clint Barton.  
The dark haired woman's expression is dark and slightly unnerving.   
"Don't. Touch. My. Cat." Is all she can growl out before she is shoved into the back of the black van.


End file.
